A sentry dressed in dark green armor stood at the inner gate of the Mur’tombi’kaam prison at border the somewhere between Dassinth and Sycracia. Rain was pouring as hard as it could be over the prison’s open-air rooftop. Peering into the distance, he could see a familiar sight—an immense black horse with a wooden box-throne on its back. There sat a man in black armor, and behind him, there was a lady wearing a crimson-colored coat. “Another sorcerer I see,” the sentry snorted, chuckling derisively. Her world became a living void of darkness. She fell unconscious once more. “How can you tell?” |}